The Nighthawk Lounge
by calisunset
Summary: Bo is a hard boiled gumshoe down on her luck when lounge singer and femme fatale Lauren shows up on her doorstep looking for help. Bo reluctantly accepts the case but smells nothing but trouble in this doccubus, au, all human, noir.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This was a little idea that struck me a while back, and now I'm finally taking on this little labor of love. **

**This story is set in the style of classic film noir, so if some of the characters come off as slightly blurred from their personalities, it's just so that it could fit in with the theme and style.**

**Now sit back guys and dolls as we take a journey back to the late 1940's.**

**I hope you enjoy. **

_ Chapter 1_

My feet sat perched on the windowsill, legs crossed as I stared down at the dark city below. All kinds of life stroll those forsaken streets. Men with black hearts filled with drink scuttle about as bright faced youths whisk along with nothin' to keep them warm but their dreams. Dreams that haven't been broken by the slap in the face this all too cruel world of ours has to offer.

My attention is drawn to a flickering lamppost. It's been teetering like that on and off for weeks. I wonder when public works will get around to fixing it, but chuckle lightly to myself. That'll be the day.

This city could care less about a busted light, no, they had bigger problems; Besides most officials of any type wouldn't be caught dead in this part of town.

I held the shot of warm scotch in my hand, I always had a bottle stashed away in my desk drawer, right next to my .44. I downed the shot, feeling the slight sting of the cheap booze as it slid down my throat and settled warmly in my chest.

I tossed the glass back into the drawer, turning my attention to my closed door that lead into the outer office.

I could hear the muffled voice of my secretary and business partner Kenzi and she chippered excitedly with another feminine voice.

I heard Kenzi telling the broad that she could head on in, raising her voice for my benefit.

I smoothed out my suit jacket, sitting up strait in my chair. It had been weeks since we had a client and truth be told we could really use the dough. Either that or it'd be a one-way ticket back to Pallokaville for both Kenzi and I.

The outline of a woman shadowed against the frosted glass that read "Bo Dennis, Private Detective" appeared in front of me. The outer office light was sharp in contrast to my dimly lit room with nothing more than a tiny desk lamp lighting the small space. I had an overhead light, but the bulb needed replacing. I chuckled to myself again, realizing that I was no better than the fellas down at public works.

The doorknob turned, and in walks a total knockout. I run my eyes appreciatively down her form. She may not have the curves of a tidal wave, but they're dangerous ones none-the-less. She's wearing a formfitting red sweater, and cream scarf that matches her skirt, which is a few inches shy of where most would like it. Her blonde hair is down, falling in loose waves around her shoulders, and the black hat she wears sits toward the back of her head, and matches her open, long black coat.

I smirk, my eyes finally catching hers for the first time. They're a deep brown and show a sense of innocence long since lost, and a hint of danger. But there's a weary element to them as well which sucks me in, wondering her story.

I realize then that I have been lingering a little too long, but if the blonde notices she doesn't let on.

I gesture to one of the two empty small red, worn leather seats in front of my desk and she sits down before offering me her hand and a polite smile.

I take her hand in mine, marveling at the warmth of it's touch, unusual for such a cold Chicago night.

"The name's Bo, Bo Dennis." I say shaking her hand firmly.

"It's nice to meet you Ms. Dennis. I'm Lauren Lewis." Her voice comes out soft, and almost like a song, with a slight air of confidence.

When our hands part I sit back in my chair, readjusting my shoulders, letting her know that though she may have the floor, I still have all the control here. It's a little trick I picked up back in my WASP and ATA days. Gives the boys just enough to soothe their egos, but keeping the real jurisdiction of the situation in your hands.

I pull a pack of cigarettes out of my coat pocket and fish around in the other looking for my small chrome lighter with my initials 'Y.D.' gracing one of the smooth sides. Standard army air corps issue.

I tap the pack a few times and offer one to the lady who waves them off before sliding one into my awaiting lips.

I flick the wheel of the lighter and bring it close to my face, noticing the blonde turn her head to the side and deeply inhale as I blow the excess smoke out of the corner of my mouth snapping the lighter shut with one hand, extinguishing the tiny flame.

"They say that stuff 'ill kill ya' you know." She says offhandedly in a sultry tone.

A smug smile graces my lips.

"Yeah well, these days, what won't kill ya' sweetheart?" I ask matching her tone.

She sighs and lets out a soft smile.

"So, what brings you here tonight toots?" I ask directly as she looks at me with amused eyes. Probably not used to such a brash tone coming from a lady. But I ain't no lady.

"Ms. Dennis, I'm afraid I've come in need of your services." Her tone was steady, but I could see in her eyes that there was a small sense of urgency. "You see I've been working at this club as a singer for the last few years, and well, my contract is up but the establishment recently changed hands, and my new employer won't let me leave, even though I've more than fulfilled my duties as per the contract agreement."

I cock an eyebrow, "And what's that got to do with me baby doll? Sounds more like you could use a lawyer."

She shook her head getting frustrated.

"No, no, I've already tried that. He keeps paying them off to give me the brush off. I've gone through three already!"

Now things were getting interesting.

"Must be some set of lungs on you." I raised another eyebrow allowing a smile to creep into the corner of my mouth. Her eyes met mine, and she readjusted herself in a feeble attempt to cover up her assets, which made me smile more. "Why not take this to the cops then? Possessive boss. It's not anything new to them."

Again the woman was getting exasperated and shook her head.

"Don't you think I would if I could? But I can't." Her voice suddenly became quite. "He's got the police's hands in his pocket."

Now both my eyebrows rose. This was _really _getting interesting. But something didn't add up. Either this dame was some Billie Holiday, or the fourth Andrews sister, or there was more to the story then she was letting on. Either way I didn't think I wanted any part of it. Nobody's in bed with the cops who doesn't need to be.

She looked at me with pleading eyes. I almost felt a sting for her, but quickly dismissed it. Pressing it down just like everything else.

"Look, I don't know what to tell ya' sister. Sounds like you're in with a pretty bad crowd. You've screamed nothin' but trouble since you walked through my door, and I don't think I need your particular brand of trouble."

Her eyes fell, disappointment clouding her face. But there was something else there. I didn't trust this dame. Hell I didn't trust anyone, but in my experience that's always for the best. Always be on your toes, and keep 'em on theirs.

"Please, I can pay you well. I have a bit of money tucked away. I can give it to you up front necessary." She pleaded attempting to keep an even tone, but her emotions betrayed her.

Offerin' money up front was never a good sign, usually you had to demand at least half up front, and then the rest after, and sometimes they required a little knockin' around even after to get what you were owe. No sir, this had bad written all over it.

"Listen here kitty cat, I don't need your bread, or your troubles." I spouted.

"Please Ms. Dennis, if you don't help me, nobody will!" The woman said with a hitch in her voice as she raised a handkerchief to her eye.

"You can can the phony waterworks doll." I said leaning back in my chair, taking a long drag on my cigarette before blowing it in her direction.

An indignant look crossed her porcelain features as she let out a genuine sniffle in spite of her anger toward my words.

She turned back toward the closed door to my office and took a few deliberate steps before turning back to me, opening her purse and tossing a matchbook onto my desk.

"In case you change your mind detective. I go on at 9 and 11." With that she turned and exited, closing the door briskly behind her.

I heard Kenzi say something of a goodbye as the outer door slammed, and I didn't hear another peep from the blonde bombshell.

I took a heavy sigh before extinguishing my cigarette in the overcrowded ashtray that littered my desk.

I slid open the drawer and pulled out the shot glass and bottle of scotch, pouring myself another and downing it quickly.

I rubbed my face in my hands before rising from my desk, and slamming the contents back safely inside before removing the .44 Smith & Wesson Magnum, checking it and placing it inside my coat's internal pocket.

As I left the confines of my office I glanced over at my secretary. Kenzi was petite with hair as dark as her attitude. She was a scrappy little thing and we got along just fine. We somehow managed to become quick friends after she tried to pickpocket me when I first arrived back here after the war.

Don't ask me how but she knew how to worm her way into your heart, and her background in petty theft lead to good instincts in the sleuthing field.

I shook my head at her. She was wearing a tight red dress and fake pearls, her hair done up, and a dark hat sat with a thin mesh veil just barely covering the tip of her nose.

She was holding one of those damn pulps she loved so much, and I had to admire her for putting fashion before function, because it would drive me mad trying to read through the checkerboard pattern in front of my eyes.

She noticed me and remove her feet which had been propped up on her desk, and stood to face me tossing the digest onto the desk and slipping her silk hoed feet into tall red pumps that matched her dress and lips.

"So hot stuff, what's the word? Whatcha' seen? Whatcha' heard?"

I couldn't help but laugh. The shorter woman certainly always had a way with words, and quite a bit of moxie.

I shook my head, "I don't know about this one Kenz, nothin' but trouble." I shook my head again. "Nothin' but trouble."

"Oh yeah," the smaller girl flashed dangerous eyes at me. "Well trouble puts food on the table sister, and I for one happen to like food. You know, for nourishment, basic survival."

You couldn't help but love her gumption. And she did have a point.

"We haven't had a case in weeks Bo, it's been nearly a month. Trick's sure to kick us out in the cold if we don't get rent in this month."

I nodded, and smiled a little at the thought of the old man. He was a kind spirit, and an old friend. He had offered for Kenzi and I to share a room in the building he owned that also housed his tavern.

He was something of a father, or grandfather figure to me, and well I knew he wouldn't leave us high and dry, I also knew I needed to get him rent this month since we had missed the last month's … and the one a few months before that, and then another a few before that.

I nodded my head, "I'll think about it kid."

Kenzi relented with a smile sitting back down in her chair.

Now I told her I'd think about it, and think about it I would. But for now I needed to drown my thoughts of the day and of the past.

The nightmares were back, they'd been getting' to me lately.

I chuckled internally. _This is why they didn't want women fighting Dennis, why they wouldn't allow it. If __**you**__ can't handle a simple bail out and a few nights with the boys on the ground in enemy territory by chance, then who could?_

Still, it's all over now, and I don't like to talk about it. Hell I wouldn't think about it if I didn't have to. That's where the booze comes in handy. Expensive, cheap, the effects were still the same.

I grabbed my long, tan trench coat from the rack, and then my fedora donning it firmly on my head, pushing down the tight pulled back pony tail I wore my long brunette hair in just about every day.

"Let's hit the Dal kid." I called to Kenzi who was already up jumping up from her desk wrapping herself in a long fur coat. "Say, where'd you get the money for such digs?" I asked nodding toward the new mink I knew I'd never seen before, and on our salary knew she couldn't afford.

She gave me a wink as a cheeky smile graced her lips.

"Oh you know, a girl's got her ways."

I shook my head. "I know all about your ways Kenz, now I'm not going to have some little old lady in here tomorrow hiring me to track this skin down am I?" I asked only half joking.

Kenzi put on a mock offended expression and covered her red lips with a now gloved hand. "Why really, I never!"

I cocked an eyebrow, and she relented.

"My cousin may have intercepted a shipment from New York." She stated waving me off. "I could get you one too you know, I'd even give you the family discount."

I sighed, "thanks kid, but you know fur's not really my style."

She looked me up and down disapprovingly.

"I know, I wish you'd let me do something with what you call style though. All you ever wear is that old trench coat and hat, I'm beginning to think that's all you own for outer wear." She waved a disapproving hand up and down my torso.

"That's not true, and after all these years I think you'd know it." I paused allowing a tiny smirk. "You know I have one in black too."

I could feel her eyes rolling behind me, accompanying the scoffing sound she made as I walked out of the office waiting for her to lock up behind us.

As we reached the outside of the building and shoved open the door we were met by a gust of wind, and an instant chill hit my bones. Braving a few steps into the cold I turned my collar up and held it tightly in front of my face.

Maybe I should take Kenzi up on that offer of the fur. Then again, it may have been a fake that would leave me colder than my trusty trench. Best just to stick to my gut.

As we walked down the near empty city streets in the dark I focused on getting to the warm atmosphere of The Dal.

It was just a small gin joint not unlike any other in this frozen, forsaken city, but it was mine.

I loved the dark wood accents and emerald velvet booths and stools. The walls were lined with old photos of the city, and bookshelves filled with ancient tomes. I could never for the life of me figure out why old man Trick would decorate a bar with volumes upon volumes of old books. The crowd the Dal drew weren't exactly the scholarly type, and after they got a few drinks in them they became even less so.

Even still the bar had a homey feel, and crammed in one corner was a medium sized stage with matching emerald curtains ballooning down from the rafters. All that sat up on the stage was a lone grand piano and a single microphone, which hadn't been used in almost a year after the last singer left for fame and fortune out in Los Angeles.

But the piano player was a personal friend, and he'd always give Kenz and I a warm grin and a friendly tune when we came in just about every night, so the place was never at a loss of soul.

We finally arrived bursting through the door and into the dim smoke filled bar.

I took off my hat placing it on the crowded rack next to the door, and unbuttoned my coat as I strode toward the bar.

Sure enough as if on cue the handsome dark skinned my tickling the ivories finished up a song, and turned to flash Kenzi and I a grin as we took our usual seats at the bar.

He turned back to his piano and began to play an upbeat tune that I recognized immediately as Kenzi's favorite.

I swung around in my stool to face her.

"I think Hale's sweet on you."

She cast me a smirking glance.

"Oh please, he couldn't handle this." She retorted as she turned back toward the bar grabbing Trick's attention.

The short distinguished looking older man approached Kenzi and I quickly a smile planted firmly on his weathered face.

"Hey dolls, what'll it be the usual?" He asked already knowing what the answer would be.

"You know it Trickster!" Kenzi replied making a clicking sound with her mouth as she winked and pointed a finger at him.

A minute or two later he reappeared in front of us sliding our drinks into our eagerly awaiting hands.

"Any leads?" He asked conversationally.

I sighed, "maybe."

He rose his eyebrows and nodded.

"Yes sir, now we just have to convince this gal over here to take the job so that you don't throw us out on our bottoms!" Kenzi said draining her drink in practically one gulp and motioning to Trick for another.

When Trick returned a second later with the bottle of vodka and topped Kenzi off he turned his focus back on me.

"You know I'd never toss you gals out on the streets. Besides I know you're good for the rent." He gave me a reassuring wink before his face turned more serious. "Why the hesitation on taking the case?"

I sighed again.

"I dunno. Could be a simple rough up case, could be more."

Trick furrowed his brow.

"I don't like the thought of you two getting caught up in something rough."

I smiled at his paternal-like protectiveness.

"Have you forgotten already that I was a golden gloves boxer for the WASPs?" I put up my dukes in a mock fighting stance.

He smiled, "That may be, but dame fighting and real fighting are two different things."

My face dropped in annoyance as I took a long swig of my drink, stinging my throat all the way down. I slammed the glass back onto the bar top with a loud thud and rapped hard indicating another round.

"I'm sorry Bo, you know what I meant. I know you can hold your own, I just worry about ya' is all." Trick said as he grabbed a bottle of light golden liquid pouring a generous amount before adding in a splash of soda water.

I nodded and returned to my drink and my troubles as Trick left us to tend to a couple that had just saddled up to the counter.

"Eh, don't mind him Bobo," Kenzi said slapping a hand firmly on my back. "He knows you could clock him one square in the kisser and be knocked off his tiny feet."

I almost choked on the sip I had just taken of my drink dribbling a little down my chin.

"Careful how you talk about our landlord kid! He's the only thing keeping us from having to share the couch at the office!" I retorted grabbing the cocktail napkin and patting at the wet spot.

Kenzi just rolled her eyes and returned to her drink mumbling.

"Yeah well, if we actually paid the old man on time there's nothing he could do."

I studied my glass, watching the last few remaining ice chips slowly dissolve in tiny ripples in the soft amber liquid.

Maybe it was just a quick job. Maybe I could rough up the owner a little and that would be that. But I didn't like what the dame had to say about the coppers. With their fingers in his coin purse, who knew what I'd really be getting into?

I placed my hand in my pleated pants pocket drawing out the matchbook Ms. Lewis had given me. I flipped it open and shut. Twirling it around in my fingers, willing it to give me the answer I needed.

Who was I kidding? I was trying to show restraint. While I didn't trust that broad as far as I could throw her, there was something in those big doe eyes of hers that called to my very soul.

"Damn." I shook my head as I checked my wristwatch, and then glanced over the address on the card again.

Kenzi gave me a sideways look, and I stood and nodded toward the door.

"I'm heading out to the Nighthawk to see the dame from today, you commin'?"

No sooner had the words left my mouth the small dark haired beauty was on her feet and grabbing her coat from the vacant stool next to where she had been sitting.

The joint was across town and it was hell finding a cab at this time of night. I'd have taken my own rusted out yellow jalopy if it hadn't been in the shop. Waiting for our next payment so that I could go and retrieve it and pay for it's much needed overhaul.

Kenzi had told me numerous times to ditch the old rust bucket, but I had a soft spot in my heart for that car and even when we did have the means could never bring myself to give her up.

The taxi pulled up in front of a swanky looking nightclub which read "The Nighthawk Lounge" in bright neon pink lettering with a turquoise blue boarder in the shape of a bird incasing the words.

As we paid the driver the taxi sped off into the night and we took in the outside of the club for a moment. The building was along a strip with other businesses attached that looked like they had been there for some time, but the club's façade looked shiny and new with it's curving white on white new wave architecture.

"Well, I'm ready to paint the town, seems like my kind of racket!" Kenzi said excitedly drinking in the aura of the place.

"We're here on business." I replied with a slight smile.

"Correction honey, you're here on business, and I'm here on _business_." Kenzi said with a twinkle in her eye that I always knew meant she was up to no good.

I shook my head and removed my hat as we walked into the establishment, a tall muscular bald man opened the door for us and gave us a nod as we stepped in.

I could hear an audible hitch in Kenzi's breath as we entered. Hell even I was impressed, and I wasn't one for fancy ambience. As far as I was concerned as long as the drinks are cool and the jazz is hot that's all the frills I needed. But I could see the draws of this place.

It was at least three times larger than the Dal, with lots of table and booths alike all surrounding a dance floor and grand stage in a semi circle. The bar was a light teak wood, and the chairs and booths alike boasted the same bright turquoise as the sign out front, with a smaller accent of yellow plastic around the base.

The stage had a full band set up, and multiple microphones for the potential of back up singers, though right now only the piano, bass, guitar, and horn section seemed to be up playing a slow tune I recognized as a Glen Miller ballad.

I checked my wristwatch again, we were a little early and I opened my coat, however did not bother to remove it as Kenzi and I sauntered up to the bar. We ordered our drinks and I turned to survey the crowd, my eyes stopping when I saw the face of a familiar blond.

The athletic, pretty in a slightly rough around the edges kind of way woman was talking up some fellas, but when her eyes met mine she gave a smirk and excused herself from her group, heading my way.

Kenzi looked up just in time to catch the woman's approach.

"Don't look now Bobo, but here comes trouble." She whirled back around on her stool, concentrating heavily on her drink.

I sighed.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Dick Tracy and the Wonder Kid as I live and breathe." She announced stopping right next to me.

"Ah the hot shot wise cracking reporter. Shouldn't you be buried in ink somewhere?" I returned mimicking her stance.

She smiled. "It's been a while Bo. What's the matter, the old man finally come to his senses and kick you out of his saloon?" She cocked her head to the side studying me.

"Nah, just visiting a pal." I returned with a neutral expression.

She narrowed her eyes at me, "So then, what's the scoop?"

I could see the reporter's intuition kicking into high gear, and shrugged in bogus ignorance.

She cocked an eyebrow not believing me for a second, but decided to pull up the stool next to me signaling for the bar keep.

We sat in silence for a moment while she ordered. Once she had her drink in her hand she turned to face me.

"So then, a social call?" She rose her eyebrows, "you still with that scruffy little pup? The cop?" She asked raising her eyebrows.

I smiled. "Nope. Haven't been for months."

I thought back on Dyson. He was a good man. But we were just too alike and too different for it to work. We were the kind of people who should have worked out but our temperaments got in the way.

"That's too bad." She mused almost to her self, "he was a dashing fella."

I couldn't help but smirk and raise my eyebrows. "He's all yours Tamsin, if you want him."

She thought for a moment before crinkling her nose, "nah, a fella like that's only good for one thing, and I ain't the marrying kind."

I had to agree with her there. Tamsin and I may have our differences, and may come up at times on opposite sides of the moral compass, but we were more alike than I cared to admit.

Just then a group of sailors came bursting through the door and all three of us turned at the commotion. I looked from Tamsin to Kenzi and back, both of them taking in the small group of attractive young men in their crisp white bellbottom uniforms, and hats.

"Well toots, it's been swell, but I believe my ship has just arrived." Tamsin said not even glancing back at me as she made her way through the lounge to the group of sailors who sat down at a table at the far end of the stage quickly making room for Tamsin as she approached with a hand on her hip.

"Listen honey," now it was Kenzi's turn. "If you need anything, anything at all, I'll be over nibbling on something yummy." She stated licking her lips. "Just say your prayers that that muckraker doesn't make any moves on my candy, or you may have to break up a fight for once!" She giggled and cast me a wink as she quickly made her exit toward the group, sliding into the booth next to a dark haired beefcake.

I sighed and rolled my eyes turning back to my drink.

I hadn't thought about Dyson in a while. I had noticed that he wasn't frequenting the Dal as much as he used to, and I wondered if that had something to do with me, or if he too was on the take for this place.

My thoughts were interrupted when a larger man in a white tuxedo jacket, matching bowtie and black dress pants that matched the little thinning hair he had left on his head and pencil thin mustache on his upper lip came to the microphone and announced the main event for the night,

"And now The Nighthawk Lounge is proud to present the graceful, the charming, the songbird that is the lovely, Miss Lauren Lewis."

The stage lights dimmed and out strode the supple, blond who had visited my office only hours earlier. As she reached center stage and placed a white gloved hand around the microphone and the spot light hit her drenching her in a pure white light.

I couldn't help the catch in my breathing, or the skipped thud of my heart as I took in the splendor on stage.

He hair was done up in light finger waves, and she wore a headband with a veil that shaded her forehead to the bottom of her powerful brown eyes.

She was wearing an elegant floor length white gown that had a sash of sequins stretching from one exposed shoulder and traveled down her breast to her stomach, and trailed off at the opposite thigh.

My eyes took in her angelic beauty and fell on her blood red lips as she began to sing.

I was completely frozen in the moment. For just a second I forgot about the impending case, I forgot about Tamsin and Kenzi and their buffet of sea-fairing men, I forgot about any troubles I may have had with Dyson, as I was lost in the motion of those lips and the voice coming out.

It was in that moment, studying that mouth that the thought ran through my mind of what I wouldn't give to kiss it. To feel those lips on mine. For her to trail red stained kisses down my neck as I returned the favor.

I quickly shook the feelings off.

She was a client, not even a client yet! And certainly one I wasn't sure if I could trust let alone get involved with. I tried to return my attention to my drink, but when I snuck a glance back, our eyes met.

She held my gaze, it was as if she was staring into my very soul and singing only for me.

I let out a slight shutter, I wanted desperately to turn, to break the contact, but it was as though she wouldn't let me. I was completely enchanted, and in that moment she had me at her mercy.

Finally she finished the song and broke the contact, giving the now roaring applause of the audience a breathtaking grin before nodding to her band to start the next number.

I chugged down my remaining drink in one gulp, and tapped the counter again indicating another, never taking my eyes off the blond.

As she began the next song her eyes met mine again, and I was again needing to gasp for air. I soon found a cold glass placed in my outstretched hand, which I raised to my lips, taking a long, slow sip, my eyes never breaking their gaze into hers.

And we went on like that through the rest of her set.

What was this hold she seemed to have on me? No man or dame had ever had this effect on me, it shocked and bewildered me, frustrated me to my very core.

When she finally gave a slight bow to the uproar of applause after the final number and headed back off the stage I picked up my drink, placed my hat on my head, and made my way through a sea of dancing people back to the roped off dressing room area. It was time I had another one on one with Ms. Lauren Lewis.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Thank you for all of the lovely reviews, follows, and faves, you guys are the bees knees! **

**Now, sit back, relax, put on your favorite crime jazz records, and enjoy this next installment of The Nighthawk Lounge.**

_Chapter 2_

I found myself opting to walk home from the Nighthawk that night.

It was bitterly cold and there were at least three cabs waiting outside the bustling club, but the truth was I needed to cool down a little.

I welcomed the long walk home as time to collect my thoughts and reflect on the little that the Lewis dame was willing to offer me.

_"Hello Detective, how did you enjoy the show?" She greeted me as I was shown by oaf of a bodyguard type into her private dressing room._

_"Just swell kid, I can see why the old man doesn't want to let ya' go." I replied keeping my cool._

_She powdered her nose as she looked back at me in the mirror. All the better, I didn't want to get lost in those dizzying doe eyes of hers again._

_"So, does this mean you'll take the case Detective?" She turned around eyes bright and full of hope. I was sunk._

_"It means if you give me all the details and full disclosure I will." I took my hat off and pointed it in her direction as I took a seat on the red velvet couch lining the wall of her dressing room opposite her vanity._

_"Oh absolutely Ms. Dennis." She came to crouch low beside me. "I don't know how to thank you."_

_"Well you can start by giving me half the dough for the job now. I'll collect the rest after the job is done." She rose to her feet and nodded to me heading toward her small clutch purse on the vanity. She pulled a few crisp bills from her purse before turning back toward me._

_"How much was it again?" She asked diplomatically._

_"Two hundred now, two hundred later."_

_She nodded and counted the bills before closing the clutch and handing me the money._

_"Thank you Ms. Lewis, now, the full story." I prompted. I didn't dare spend a cent of the change she handed me until I knew what I was really getting into._

_"Yes. About that." She paused and tugged a little on the belt to the robe she was wearing over her ensemble. "I will give you the full details," she crouched down next to me again, and lowered her voice. "But not here." She glanced around wearily. "There are eyes and ears everywhere."_

_I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Yup. Better not even bother telling Kenzi about the bread._

_"When then?" I ask a little gruffer than I mean to._

_"Tomorrow, how about in the afternoon. I have a class in the morning."_

_I look at her skeptically. "Alright then. You know the little diner just down from my office?" She nodded. "Alright, I'll see you there, say three o'clock. How does that sound?"_

_She rose to her feet. "Wonderful Ms. Dennis. I look forward to it."_

_I stood and crossed the room to the door, but before I could open it I was met with a brush of smooth warm lips against my cheek._

_"Thank you again Detective." She husked in a deep voice._

_"I'll see ya' tomorrow Ms. Lewis." I said gathering my wits about me, and I slid out the door closing it without another look back._

By the time I had gotten back out to the main floor I noticed that Kenzi, Tamsin and the group of sailors on leave were gone. Part of me was grateful that I wouldn't have to share any of the half details with my spunky, over eager partner just yet. Knowing her she'd be spending this money before it was even made, and sending me to an early grave.

So I walked. I breathed in the night air. The sounds of muffled couples arguing in the night, and police sirens floated through the thick night air. I paused for a moment outside another club. I could hear the sound of brushes on cymbals and snares, and the low pangs of someone wailing on a saxophone. I contemplated stopping in for a moment. Another drink to clear my head. But I knew it wouldn't do any good. I'd had too many for the evening already, and I could hear my old creaky full bed calling my name.

Another twenty minutes and I was crashing through the door to the apartment I shared with Kenzi on the second floor of The Dal.

I tossed my hat on the rack, and shrugged my coat off unceremoniously allowing it to pool on the floor at my feet. I kicked off my shoes, and pulled off my tie with one hand unbuttoning my shirt with the other.

I barely had the garments off when I found myself through my bedroom door and passed out on top of the covers of my bed.

It was one of those nights. One of those evenings when you pass out for about an hour and then wake up and lie there tired, desperate for sleep yet it just won't come.

I hated the night. In my opinion the night was worse than the day, and the day was pretty damn awful.

I hated the night because I hated the nightmares that had become so synonymous with it.

I could still hear their voices. See their faces. I felt myself jumping out of that plane as it went down over France.

It was just another routine Air Transport Auxiliary mission. Between them and Women's Airforce Service I had flown nearly a hundred of these supply missions before. But this time it was different. I was stationed in England, and me and my Co-Pilot Betty were the only crew on board transporting our cargo to be dropped at a secret base in the North of France when we took heavy fire and the plane started spiraling downward out of control.

A German plane had flown up beside us and sent a spray of bullets through the cockpit before I had managed to take back control of the aircraft and send us colliding into their much smaller plane causing them to catch fire from our inflamed tail.

My victory was short lived however when we continued to lose altitude, and I looked over to see that Betty had gotten hit. She lay there lifeless, a pool of blood trickling out from her left temple. It made me stick as salty tears stung my eyes, and smoke began to cloud my vision.

I had radioed my dilemma and now there was nothing left but for me to bailout. I approached the now completely open cargo section of the plane, waiting for a clearing, and then closed my eyes and jumped.

I tugged on my parachute cord at the precise moment, just like they had taught us back in flight school in the event of an emergency.

When I finally hit the ground I found myself surrounded by US soldiers pointing their guns my way, and was relieved that for all the places I could land in enemy territory I managed to end up with our boys.

After a great deal of explanation they begrudgingly agreed to bring me with them, as none of us had any choice. Unfortunately we were a three day hike from any friendly base that could transport me back to safety.

It was in those three days that I would see things that you can never un-see. Hear what you can't un-hear. Hold boys no older than myself in my arms as they cried out for their mothers, their fathers, their girlfriends, all to have them fall silent only minutes later as I clung to them desperately wanting to help, but there was nothing I could do. Nothing but hold them and reassure them that they were going to be okay.

It was images like that that woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. Kenzi didn't even bother to come in and check on me anymore. She had become used to the almost nightly rein of terror erupting from my bedroom.

So, I tossed and I turned. I tired to think of anything else. Sunshine, the beach, cherry cola, and moon pies. Anything.

And then I began to think of her face. That blonde hair slicked up in light finger waves, that perfect creamy white skin, that tiny indentation in her chin, those big beautiful coffee eyes, and finally those luscious, kissable red lips.

It was finally with that image in my mind that I managed to drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning and afternoon rolled by slowly. Kenzi was out in front nursing a hangover while I sat back at my desk with my own remedy. Nothin' beats the hair of the dog.

I sipped my scotch slowly, and twirled a cigarette between my fingers, willing the clock on the opposite wall to read three.

When the time finally came I threw on my hat and coat, I told Kenzi I had an errand or two to run and she was too out of it to question me. Just asking me to pick up some aspirin and Alka-Seltzer tablets on my way back.

I skipped down the steps and out the front of the building, making my way to the Tahiti Diner, just half a block down from my office.

It was a quaint little spot, the inside all decked out in bamboo, and reds, yellows and oranges. There were hula girl statues and ceramic palm trees decorating the joint. Hell they even stuck those little colorful umbrellas in your sandwich. It was almost a cruel joke on a cold day like this, sitting in a false paradise while you watched the snow fall outside the bright plate glass windows.

When I approached Jimmy the usual afternoon bus boy asked if I'd like my usual table, but when I spotted the blonde in a booth in the far corner I thanked him and let him know that wouldn't be necessary.

She was early and I noticed her fidgeting with a clean white handkerchief as I approached.

"Afternoon Ms. Lewis." I said, she was seated with her back to me and I slipped my coat and hat off and handed them to Jimmy who had followed me to the table.

I slid into the booth and gave a small nod to the woman in front of me.

"It's quite the place you picked here Ms. Dennis. I almost forgot the storm front moving in from the lake this evening." She gave me a coy smile.

"Yeah well, it's close and quiet, and the staff makes it a point of not hearing things. Just be sure to mention you don't want pineapple, they put it on everything." I gave her my own sly smirk and settled in, making a motion to Jimmy so that he would know I'd take my usual coffee.

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind Ms. Dennis." Her smile grew and I felt a small stab in my heart.

"You know, if we're going to be working together you can call me Bo."

She nodded, "I thought you weren't still sure as to whether you were going to take the case or not." The corner of her mouth twitched as a waitress came around with two coffees, placing them silently on the table and then taking her leave.

"Well, that's what were here to find out, besides I've already got your dough don't I?" I blew on my coffee to cool it before raising it to my lips and took a sip. I gave her a small nod, which she took as her cue to begin.

"Right then. Down to business." She took a cautious look around and I muffled a small chuckle with another sip of the hot, rich liquid.

"You see, I started singing after the war as a way to make money for medical school. I had been a part of the WACs as a surgical assistant in France and then the South Pacific." She paused to take a sip of her own coffee after adding cream.

"So, you wanna be a nurse?" I asked a little surprised.

She gave me a glaring look. "No, I'm going to be a doctor. I already finished my undergraduate before the war. I'm taking classes now and going for my PhD."

I cocked my head to the side and gave a small laugh, "lady doctors? That'll be the day. I wish you all the best of luck with that one kid."

Her gaze turned even more icy. "Because of course there can be women detectives, private investigators, but not doctors right?" Her tone was as cold as her stare.

"Listen sweetheart, I didn't mean to ruffle your damn petticoat, it'll just be a tough department that's all." I raise my hands in defense.

"Yeah well, nothin' worth while in life is easy is it Ms. Dennis?" If looks could kill I'd be a dead woman by now.

"No Ms. Lewis, I don't suppose it is." I shrugged my shoulders and took another sip of coffee, my silence as an encouragement for her to continue when she was ready.

"Anyhow, I took the gig to pay for school. My family and I had a falling out, and I'd always had a knack at singing so I decided to give it a go. I sang in a couple of clubs before starting the Nighthawk. You see…" She began to twist that damn handkerchief again, almost absentmindedly. "You see, the old owner was a good man. I had had a run in with a particularly possessive ex, and the old owner offered me his protection in exchange for signing an exclusive three-year contract. The money paid well, and I knew I'd be in school for at least four more years or so, so I took the job without a second thought."

I nodded. "The ex, he rough you up or something? He still in the picture?"

She sighed and looked as though she were having some sort of internal debate.

"They won't be a problem anymore, but they are a crucial part of why I sought you out."

"You didn't answer my question." I breathed. I didn't know why I was getting so hot under the collar, I'd only just met this woman, but something about her made me want to protect her, and if some son of a bitch had laid their hands on her I'd see to it that I personally ended their existence.

"At first everything was fine. We met overseas actually. Nadia was another surgical assistant stationed at the same hospital as me in the South Pacific. Always very gentile and kind with patients, but when we returned to the states, something changed. Something in her snapped and she became violent, and mentally detached. I tried breaking up with her multiple times but every time she'd track me down and try to get me back. It was becoming a real problem." She sighed, during her whole speech she'd looked me directly in the eyes, and held a steady tone.

"She?" I cocked my head to the side again and couldn't help the grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

She glazed over my comment and continued, "Our arrangement was working out quite well, and I had signed an additional one year contract with my former employer. However, two months into my new contract the new owner, Lachlan showed up one day out of the blue. Said he'd bought the Nighthawk on a whim, and that the old owner had retired to the Poconos. It was a funny thing see, he'd never once mentioned retiring, and certainly never the Poconos. So myself and a few of the members of the house band decided to swing around his place to check it out. When we looked in his windows all his furniture was still there. We couldn't believe he'd just leave with no goodbye, no explanation."

It was fishy I'll give her that, but people were allowed to have a change of heart. Call it a midlife crisis. People could be particularly swayed for the right price as well.

"That was the first suspicious thing that happened." She looked away from me a slight glisten of a tear in her eye. "After about another month or two, one night Nadia comes walking into the club, or I guess I should say stumbling in. She was drunk and she cornered me in the ally on my way home and gave me a black eye before one of the club's security caught notice of the commotion. He'd asked me to wait for him to walk me home and first dragged Nadia in to see Lachlan by the scruff of her shirt. That was the last time I ever saw Nadia. A week later her body washed ashore Lake Michigan."

I wasn't completely unfamiliar with this way of doing business. But I didn't like that Lauren Lewis had gotten caught up in it.

"I still have a few months left on my contract, but I want out, I'm scared Ms… Bo." I looked at the fear and longing in her eyes, and I wished that I could take that fear away.

Without even realizing what I was doing I found my hands reaching across the table to cover hers, and my voice saying, "Listen, I will do everything I can to get you out of the remainder of your contract. Don't you worry Ms. Lewis."

She looked at me with glistening eyes, eyes that looked at me like I was her salvation, and I only hoped that I could measure up.

"Please, call me Lauren." She gave me a faint smile.

A reassuring smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "You got it Lauren. You just hang in there, everything's gonna be swell."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note: Hey guys and dolls, sorry I know it's been months since I updated this one! My muse has eluded me on this one for a while, but thank you for all of you that were pushing me to keep at it._**

**_I also apologize that after such a long wait you're rewarded with such a short chapter, but I promise to try to not take another two months before I post the next chapter._**

**_Thanks for reading._**

_Chapter 3_

I went to see her that night at the club, the next night too. I was like a moth draw to a flame, and Lauren Lewis flickered with dangerous desire. Still I knew that if I got too close I'd get burnt, but suddenly it didn't matter anymore.

I tried to stick to the back of the bar, tried to hide my face behind a glass of something strong, but it didn't work. Both night's she picked me out of the crowd, and I couldn't help but stare, completely mesmerized by every subtle movement she made.

Damn. Why does she have to be so damn enticing? I watched green with envy as men would watch her, practically drooling over her. They'd confidently saunter up to Bruce, the bald, muscle clad beefcake that stood security over the velvet roped off area of the club that led to the dressing rooms, and back offices, only to be turned away.

By the third evening I couldn't take it anymore. I'd had enough of hiding in the shadows. Maybe it was something about the way the fella next to me at the bar that leaned across to the bar keep and whistled "get a load of that kisser" and nodded in her direction, maybe it was the way that she looked at me from across the stage, like somehow she knew I'd be there, making me feel like I was the only one in the room. Either way I was falling, and I was falling fast.

During the day Kenzi and I had kept our ears to the ground and hit the pavement, looking to any of our contacts who could give us the dirt on this Lachlan joker, but we kept turning up empty. I'd never had such a frustrating case before. It was frustrating for all the right and the wrong reasons. This case was nothin' but dead ends in a dead end town, and it didn't suit me at all.

But I had other things on my mind tonight, and with a belly full of courage I watched Ms. Lewis leave the stage and made my way over to Bruce to try my luck. To my amazement he gave me a faint smile and lifted the velvet rope inviting me in.

I made my way quickly down the hall and passed the few closed office doors on the way to Lauren's dressing room. If I'd have known that it'd be that easy to get back here I would have made to case these offices days ago. Then again, hindsight is twenty-twenty ain't it?

I wrapped softly on the closed wooden door before I heard that deep melodic voice that seemed to put my mind in a haze call out for me to come in. I remove my hat, shoving it under my arm and turned the door handle swinging the door wide open, I moved swiftly into the room and shut the door, making sure it was locked behind me.

"I was wondering when you'd finally come detective." Her voice was deep and suggestive as I turned to see the gorgeous woman in front of me only half dressed in a silk white slip, and an emerald robe with gold trim hanging wide open.

I moved forward, grabbing her face in my hands, I couldn't take her game any longer it was time to just give in.

I leaned in a kissed her, I kissed her hard, and I kissed her breathless. When I finally let her go I half expected her slap me, but she never did. Instead she grabbed me, her warm palms on either side of my face, and pulled me back into her, returning the searing kiss.

After a minute she pulled away from me, leaving me gasping for air.

"You know, I've been waiting for you to do that too." She said with a mischievous grin.

"What'd ya' mean? How'd you know?" I ask furrowing my brow, "and why do you look like the cat who just ate the canary?"

She grinned at me, and tapped the side of her nose.

"Let's just say I have a nose for these things detective." She smirked at me.

Normally a dame acting so damn coy would piss me off, but there was something about this one, it only made me want her more.

"What'd ya' say we get out of here kid?" I ask looking back at the locked door. She smiled at me again and ran a hand down my cheek.

"You got it beautiful. Give me a minute and we'll slip out the back." She caressed my cheek one more time before heading behind a folding screen that had images from the east painted on it decoratively. A minute or two later she reappeared fully clothed, which I must admit was somewhat to my dismay.

I picked my hat up off the ground where it had fallen in the heat of the moment, and after placing it back on my head I offered my arm for Ms. Lewis to take. She smiled and shook her head but did take it as I let her lead me out of the club and to the street where we hailed a taxi.

I gave the cabby my address, and did my best to keep my hands off the blonde next to me on the cab ride home.

As we pulled up and I paid the man I only hoped Kenzi had decided to take the night and hit up the Dal, or maybe go out with one of her sailor boys she had met the other night, I didn't dare peak into the bar windows as we passed to the side entry way that lead up to the apartments above the bar.

When we finally got into my apartment I made sure that the coast was clear, not that it would have deterred me in that moment if Kenzi had been home, it just would have left more explaining for the morning.

"It's a nice place you got here." The blonde said as she looked around the small living area. There was the kitchen, a small table and chairs in one corner of the living room, along with a couch and our old Victrola, records scattered around it, and of course on the wall beside the bathroom and kitty corner to the door leading to my room was the Murphy bed Kenzi slept on, though she rarely bothered to put it away anymore, and sheets and blankets were draped half hazard over the mattress, half gathering on the floor; It wasn't like we frequently entertained guests… well, not the kind of guests who'd care anyhow about the state of a messy bed, they'd rather just be in it.

"Thanks, it's not much, but we don't need much anyway." I replied moving into the kitchen and staring into our bare fridge. "I'd like to offer you something, but it looks like all we've got is coffee and Scotch." I said. I was trying to be hospitable, but in truth I really only had one thing on my mind, and that was what that blonde would look like wrapped up in my sheets.

"Thank you I'm fine." She said in that low voice of hers, and I looked up to see her removing her long cream colored gloves. "So, whom do you live with?" She asked looking from the door to my room to the hide away bed.

I placed my hat on the counter in the kitchen and shrugged off my coat laying it over one of the chairs next to the dinning table.

"Kenzi, you met her, my secretary. Well actually she's more of my partner." I looked over to see intent cool brown eyes silently appraising me.

"Ah, and where is she now? Expecting her home anytime soon?" She asked as I glided across the room to her.

"I don't know and frankly I don't care." I breathed sternly. "What I do care about is getting you out of this coat, and making you a little more… comfortable." With that I hastily tugged at the belt holding her coat closed and snapped open the large buttons that aided in protecting her from the forsaken cold that lingered over this city nine months out of the year. Opening the coat I pushed it off her shoulders allowing it to fall to the floor as I attacked her neck in a frenzy of hungry kisses. What was this woman doing to me? She made me throw all caution to the wind. I heard her gasp under my lips as she tugged at the back of my shirt.

"It was the throb in your voice detective." She said suddenly pulling my focus slightly away from my attack on her long, slender neck.

"Hmm?" I mumbled as I continued my decent down her neck and to the front of her collar.

"What gave you away. It was the throb in your voice, and that untamed look of desire in your eyes."

I pulled back from her cool delicious skin, and took her hand pulling her with me into my bedroom as I slammed the door closed behind us.

The moment the door banged shut I spun the blonde around attacking her neck again only this time from behind, as I pulled the zipper to her dress down antagonizing slowly. When the zipper finally hit its base I reached up and massaged the dress off her shoulders, allowing my hands to linger on her smooth skin, bare with the exception of the thin silk straps to her slip. My desire growing by the second as I realized that she wasn't wearing a brassiere.

Suddenly I found myself being pushed backwards as the blonde spun around and stepping out of her fallen dress shoved me back into my dresser drawers as she hungrily attacked my lips with her own. Her nimble fingers making quick work of shirt buttons as she pushed my shirt off my body and set to work unhinging my bra.

I moaned into the kiss as she slid my bra down my arms and rested her hands on my ample breasts. It was her turn to groan as she teased me while our tongues fought for ascendancy in one another's mouths. Damn could that dame kiss.

When I felt one of her hands slip into the waste band of my trousers I pushed her back onto my bed, unable to wait any longer.

We spent the next several glorious hours repeatedly making love until we were both too tired to carry on. I held her close as she buried her face in my chest, falling asleep almost instantly. I however sat for a moment, stroking her long blonde hair, and just admiring her beautiful, peaceful sleeping form as her head rose and fell in rhythm with my breaths.

I finally drifted off into the best sleep I'd had in years thinking that I would do anything I could for the woman in my arms, no matter the consequences.

I'd get her out of her contract and I'd take her far away from this world, even if it were to be the last thing I do.


End file.
